Untitled Poem.

I wrote this back in March. I wrote it in a way that was designed to make the reader this it's about one person, but it's not. I'd like to post it here and use italics to make the distinction between the two subjects.


You say this is all so simple
It comes and it goes
It's racing through my veins
I still don't know
Because we're talking late into the night
While you're sleeping miles away
With your silly little dreams
With you and with me
With all those things you hoped we'd be
But I'm waiting for that letter
I want to see your writing on the card
My journal is filling to the brim
With stories of you and of him
and I still don't know what to do
Your smile makes me melt
My head is spinning round
I'm tangled in these spider webs
I can't escape
I'm staying up late at night
Replaying those words over and over
It's making me sick
I think I want to be with you
But you're sleeping miles away
You've got your silly little dreams
With you and with me
And all those things you hoped we'd be
We aren't and we can't
California wants you back

I'd rather not explain it just yet, I'm just curious if it makes sense at all. I'm not sure that it does.